Since her parties seldom required me to dress too far over the top, I usually went along.I knew that I have the worst legs imaginable, so I usually wo...re pants of some kind. I would have worn pants to her party that night, but Jen insisted that I dress a bit more like the others. Since I had nothing, I planned to go shopping after my mall walk on the Saturday morning of the party.I waited until mid morning before I walked. When I finished, I went from one department store to the next. I just saw. Let's be right up front. My stretched pussy. Stretched, wet, very well fucked, and, always a bit hungry, hole.Most women worry about how tight they are, but I'm not in their league. A guy doesn't stay with a gal because she's a tight virginal fuck. He stays with her because she's available and dirty as hell in bed. 'Available' being the key word because as soon as you deny a guy pussy, you're marketing message is all fucked up. Can you control a guy's access to your pussy? Sure. Can you get him. "What's wrong?" Mick asked."Really run out of gas," I moaned. I pulled over the side and stopped the car. "I'm really sorry we have to stop here. I need to call the AAA men to come out and fix it. I pulled my cell phone out from my bag and dialed the number and spoke with someone. They told me that someone will come in about an hour or so to help me out. "Don't apologise," he said. "These things happen," he smiled and I smiled back. His eyes traveled along my body to my legs lustfully. He wet. At breakfast, I was introduced to the other clientele, which, as usual, were mostly female. (Over the weeks, we got to know lots about each others lives back home, but I will omit this stuff, as it is not very relevant here).Just arrived were myself, Sue, and Eve. Olga, a small and wiry Swiss woman who ran the centre, got us to fill in a questionnaire, and explained the regime, and any options there were. Without exception, we all went for the most rigorous programme - why travel all that way.